


The Book Club (Erik Is An Asshole Remix)

by novera_nope



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Charles is a flirt, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Erik is a Father, Erik is an asshole, M/M, Protective Erik, X-men Remix 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 18:32:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7856431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novera_nope/pseuds/novera_nope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik took Charles by his shoulders and shook him rather harshly. "It’s fucking porn! You’re making my daughter read <i>porn</i>!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Book Club (Erik Is An Asshole Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [until_the_earth_is_free](https://archiveofourown.org/users/until_the_earth_is_free/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Book Club](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5583292) by [until_the_earth_is_free](https://archiveofourown.org/users/until_the_earth_is_free/pseuds/until_the_earth_is_free). 



After he'd gotten his PhD in genetics, Charles had had ample opportunity to start teaching in several of the most prestigious universities in the country. He'd refused them all. Instead, he'd decided to teach physics and biology in some inconspicuous high school - a decision that had been frowned upon, especially by his sister and his colleague Hank. 

He loved teaching this particular age group, though. Adolescents' opinions were often much more refreshing than adults', he found, and teens were usually much more open to different views. So he'd just shrugged off any of Raven's and Hank's objections and had started teaching at Westchester high. 

He loved it, he truly did, and yet - something was lacking. He practically lived for science, yes, but he longed to share his love for literature as well. And then the principal had suggested starting up a book club, and Charles had all but jumped at the chance. He couldn't believe his luck. 

He'd started the book club with a small number of students, but soon more of them had just started turning up in his lessons. Not all of them were in the club because they loved to read - Charles was well aware of the fact that some students did it just to boost their grades. That, and he had the distinct feeling that at least two of the girls were only in it because they had a crush on him, if their giggling and eye-batting were any indication. 

But on the whole, the level and motivation of his students were satisfying. There was one girl in particular who seemed to share his passion for books. Lorna Lehnsherr was 16, studied Latin and Greek, and had a strong opinion on almost everything. He truly liked the girl. And he liked the book club. And, well, he liked his life in general. 

It became suddenly much less pleasant, though, when Erik Lehnsherr found his way into Charles' classroom. 

***

It was a dreary Thursday afternoon when Charles let his students out of the classroom and started getting together his papers, in a hurry to get to the school board's meeting. He only noticed there was someone standing in front of his desk when he accidentally dropped one of his notes and it landed on a stylish, shiny shoe. 

"Yes?" he asked, picking up the piece of paper without looking at the owner of the shoe. "Can I help you?" He stuffed the paper into his briefcase. 

"My daughter's in your book club." The shoe, it seemed, was accompanied by a rather unpleasant voice. 

"Yes, alright, and I'd love to talk about your daughter's achievements, but we'll have to do it another time. Now, if you'll excuse me, I-"

"I don't want to talk about my daughter," the voice snapped. "I want to talk about _you_ and your terrible choice in literature for the club."

Charles' head snapped up. "Wait, what?" In front of him was a very handsome, impeccably clad man - a handsome man who also happened to be looking quite angry. Charles swallowed, acutely aware of the worn brown cardigan he was wearing. Raven had _told_ him do throw the thing away a billion times. _Dammit._

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Is there a particular book that you have problems with, Sir?" 

The man regarded him coolly. " 'The Secret History'."

"Donna Tartt? Why would you object to you daughter reading Tartt? The novel's quite interesting, really."

"Really?" the man drawled. "Murder. Incest. Addiction. Suicide. And all that because of the influence of a _teacher_." He spat out the word as if Charles himself were the - indeed morally questionable - teacher that the book featured. 

Charles smiled. "I can assure you I don't put my students up to murder or any of the other crimes I'm apparently being accused of, Sir," he joked. 

The man just looked at him like he wanted to tear his eyes out, and Charles cleared his throat. "Well, you're right about the bad influence of the teacher in this novel. But I'm hoping it teaches the students to be critical and not blindly follow or worship the people who are in charge. I think the book is a great opportunity to address those issues with them."

"I do not," the man said emphatically. 

It wasn't that Charles wasn't open to a discussion about this - or any - book, quite the contrary, but he was really running late at this point. So he settled for a simple "Yes, you make that very clear." 

Then again, the man _was_ rather attractive. "Look, I'm really in a hurry right now,” he added. “Would you perhaps like to continue this conversation over a cup a coffee sometime soon?" He smiled flirtatiously and cocked his head, which he knew always did the trick. 

The man only narrowed his eyes, though. "I don't think so," he said slowly. 

Ok. Maybe not _always_. Another approach, then. "I was under the impression that my students quite like this novel," Charles tried. "Does your daughter feel the same way as you?"

"No," the man said through gritted teeth. "She loves it," he added grudgingly. 

Charles beamed. "Ah. Then I must be doing something right, yes?"

"No," the man barked. "You're not." He bared his teeth and he was about to say something, when Lorna's head appeared in the doorway. "Dad? I don't know what you're doing, but could we go now? I have a lot of homework to do this evening."

So this was _Lorna's_ father. 

When the man saw his daughter, his look softened immediately. He nodded. "I'll be right there, sweetheart." Then he turned back to Charles. "Make them read something else," he ordered, giving Charles a pointed - and quite intimidating - look before disappearing after his daughter. 

He left Charles rather stunned. Was it just his British upbringing, or was this man really rather rude? 

***

"'The English patient'?" an indignant voice sounded from the doorway two weeks later. 

Charles briefly closed his eyes. Not again. 

He sighed and turned towards Lorna's father, who was holding a cup of coffee from the machine down the hall. Charles forced a smile. "Alright. I do think we've gotten off on the wrong foot. Allow me to introduce myself." He held out a hand. "Charles Xavier."

Lorna's father looked at his outstretched hand as if Charles had just sneezed in it, but then he shook it with the hand not holding the cup. Briefly. "Erik Lehnsherr."

"So, do tell me what on earth you find objectionable about 'The English patient'. It's a beautiful novel, Mr Lehnsherr."

Erik frowned. "A _beautiful_ novel that promotes extramarital affairs?"

"I would hardly call it 'promoting’," Charles countered. "You do know the woman actually dies because of the affair, right?"

"I still don't think the theme's suitable for adolescents. They're already so fickle, I- I think they need to read about loyalty."

Charles' eyes sparkled. "Oh, but from what I saw behind the bicycle shed, your daughter's very loyal to her boyfriend, don't worry."

"What?" Erik dropped the hot cup of coffee and cursed. "Her _what_?"

Charles burst out in laughter. "I"m sorry. That was mean of me." 

"You're... joking," Erik asked rather than stated. 

"Of course I am." Charles said, not quite able to hide his grin. Then his eyes fell on Erik's shirt, which was positively ruined, and his smile disappeared. "God, I'm sorry." 

"It's… alright," Erik said through clenched teeth. 

Charles shook his head. "No, it's really not. Come on, I'm sure I have a spare shirt lying around here somewhere." He started rummaging through the cupboards. 

"No, really-"

"Ah, here it is!" Charles held up a worn yellow shirt, beaming. "It's not much, but it's clean." 

He took the few steps that separated him from Erik and started unbuttoning the coffee-stained shirt. 

When he'd gotten it off, his mouth fell open. Of course this asshole was not only blessed with a handsome face, no, _of course_ he had to have the most perfectly sculpted body in the northern hemisphere - and possibly beyond. 

He only realized he was staring when Erik cleared his throat. "Something the matter?" He raised an eyebrow. The corner of his mouth was curling up slightly, Charles was sure of it. 

"No," he rasped. "No! I-" he took a step back and handed the shirt to Erik. "Here you go."

"Thanks," Erik said. "I'll return it to you when the other one is cleaned." He paused a moment, looking thoughtful. "Along with the bill," he then added with a straight face. 

"Yes. Yes, alright." Charles was positive he was blushing like a frat boy at that point. 

Erik turned around, only to find his daughter standing in the doorway with wide eyes, her mouth shaped into a little ‘o’. "Ah, Lorna. Let's go, alright?" 

He walked towards the door, but turned around when he was almost there. "Don't think you're getting rid of me that easily, Xavier," Erik said icily before marching off. Charles thought he saw a glint of amusement in the man's eyes, though. 

***

Over the next weeks it became clear that Erik was, indeed, rather persistent. He appeared in Charles’ classroom after lessons on quite a few occasions, loudly voicing his opinion on whatever book the club was discussing at the time. 

He did not like ‘Lord of the flies’ ("needlessly cruel"). 

He didn’t like ‘A widow for a year’, either. ("An affair, again? Are you serious?")

He emphatically did not like ‘Madame Bovary’ ("Are you actually obsessed with adultery?"). 

His reaction to Nabokov’s ‘Lolita’ was particularly vehement, as he found the novel "utterly disturbing and offensive" and "was Charles doing this just to spite him?", which, of course, Charles wasn’t. Really, he _wasn’t_. Honestly. 

Slowly, the tone of their conversations changed, though. Their opinions on literature still clashed mostly, but these days it actually made for an interesting debate instead of a shouting match – well, most of the time. 

Erik proved himself to be a sharp reader and a witty conversationalist, and Charles found himself enjoying their time together. By the time the first trimester was almost over, he caught himself actually looking forward to Erik’s visits. 

***

That didn’t mean, however, that Charles understood why Erik was opposed to just about every book he assigned to his students. He longed to take a quick look into Erik’s mind on more than one occasion, but then he’d remember he had sworn to himself never to resort to such measures. 

On a cold January afternoon, when Erik was in the middle of a litany about Heathcliff’s dark nature - what reasonable person would object to his daughter reading bloody ‘Wuthering heights’? - , he finally snapped. 

"Bloody hell, Erik! Lorna’s 16, not 6!" he blurted out. "So which novel would you actually approve of, except for _Cinderella_?" 

Apparently, it had been the wrong thing to say. Erik’s eyes hardened as he stood up from the chair opposed to Charles and all the metal in the room started to rattle. "Do not _mock_ me!" he yelled, banging his fist down on the desk between them. "You don’t know –"

"I don’t," Charles interrupted, holding up his hands. "I don’t, I apologize." The rattling stopped. 

"It’s just – I don’t understand. Lorna seems such a clever girl, intelligent, opinionated, and very capable of handling her own." He looked up at Erik. "I don’t understand why you’d want to shield her from the more… challenging aspects of life, why you don’t trust her to make the right decisions even when she gets to know the bigger picture. She seems more than capable of it. " 

Erik closed his eyes and for a moment, he looked almost as if he were in pain. "I-" he swallowed thickly. "I lost her mother when she was born. She’s the only thing I have left."

 _Shit._ "Oh, Erik. I’m so sorry." Charles carefully put his hand on Erik’s wrist. "I shouldn’t have said anything."

"No, I-" Erik sat down and his eyes met Charles’. "I know I’m being overprotective. It’s – I’m scared to see her grow up, you know? I don’t _want_ her to have to face lovers like Heathcliff or teachers like Julian Morrow. "

"She will, though, to a certain extent," Charles smiled sadly, his fingers rubbing little circles on Erik’s wrist. "You can’t shield her from everything. Isn’t it better to have her prepared?" 

Erik said nothing. They sat like that for the longest time, uncharacteristically not talking, each one lost in their own thoughts. 

***

Winter had been long and cold, but when April was about halfway through, Spring finally arrived. After the new trimester’s first book club, Charles was in an exceptionally good mood – which was saying something, as Charles was always in a good mood – and he decided to head home early, wanting to enjoy the lovely weather as much as possible. Marking those physics papers could wait, surely. 

Apparently, Erik could _not_. He barged into the classroom when Charles was stuffing the papers into his briefcase, banging the door. 

Charles looked up in surprise. "Erik? What’s wrong?" The man was positively fuming. 

Erik strode towards Charles until his face was mere inches from his. "You’re making them read 'Fifty – fucking – shades of grey'?" 

"What?" Charles said. "No! Of course n-"

"Have you completely lost your mind?" Erik yelled. 

"I _never_ asked them to read 'Fifty –'" Charles sputtered. 

Erik took Charles by his shoulders and shook him rather harshly. "It’s fucking porn! You’re making my daughter read _porn_!" 

"Erik!" Charles bristled. "I’m _not_ -"

"Porn that is, might I add, incredibly denigrating towards women," Erik spat. 

"Erik."

"It’s not even well-written!" Erik shouted. "I can’t believe even you would-"

And then Charles did the one thing he could think of that would shut this infuriating man up already, and he pressed his lips to Erik’s. A shot of surprise burst from Erik, but it wasn’t the unpleasant kind, so Charles mentally cheered. 

"What are you doing?” Erik then whispered against his lips. 

Charles pulled away reluctantly. "I was shutting you up, as you were spouting absolute nonsense."

"You mean… you’re not making them read E.L. James." Erik’s anger seemed to have disappeared in a flash. 

“Of course not, you silly man."

Erik looked genuinely puzzled. "But why would Lorna lie to me about such a thing?"

Charles smiled. "I’m afraid your daughter might not be as little and naïve as you’d like her to be, Erik." 

Erik frowned for a moment, but then he processed the information and a wide grin appeared on this features. "You think she did this on purpose? To get-"

“Yes, I think so," Charles interrupted, impatiently. Now that he’d finally had a taste of Erik, he wanted no waste no more time. "Now, are you going to continue talking or…"

“Or,” Erik nodded. He smiled and closed the distance between them. This time it was a proper kiss, soft and exploring. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Charles thought he felt a _whoop_ coming from the doorway, but then again, he could be mistaking. He was rather preoccupied at the moment, after all.


End file.
